


Brief Reprieve

by likingandloving



Series: Sweet and Bitter [7]
Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:03:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6082137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likingandloving/pseuds/likingandloving
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you... wanna come up?”</p><p>His eyes widen, but the darkness of his pupils are hard to miss. She hopes she looks sultry enough and not desperate, like she feels. She knows her own eyes must be dark as well, lips swollen and cheeks and chest dusted with red.</p><p>If he doesn’t reply in the next two seconds she swears that she’s just going to push him up herself.</p><p>It feels like forever, but he barely mutters a yes before she’s tugging on his hand and leading him upstairs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brief Reprieve

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I actually re-wrote this chapter because I think that Ben and Leslie deserve a little dirty time after everything I've put them through. Hope you guys like it and leave me a kudos or a comment if you wish!

\---

Her phone vibrates for probably the millionth time tonight and Ann resists the urge to throw her phone against the wall just so that he would stop texting her. 

_You sure she’s going to like it?_

Ann sighs, the initial awe of how sweet Ben was starting to get mildly irritating, but it was obvious that he really liked her and the fact that he was texting her was proof enough of that. She typed out a quick reply before Leslie grabs her attention with a terrible neon green dress waving in her face.

_You’ll be fine, dork. Just relax._

“What about this one?” Leslie asks, holding it up to show the front and back and was that a Joe Biden patch near the front?

“No.”

“But it has this cute--“ Leslie starts to point at the Raggedy Ann style pockets and no, definitely not that one. Ann tosses the dress into the growing 'reject' pile on their floor and hums before shifting through the mess that was Leslie’s closet, not at all surprised by the sheer amount of blazers that she owned. (Or the box that was labeled ‘Joe Biden’ on the floor)

“What about this?” Ann pulls out a pair of leggings and Leslie immediately winces, shaking her head before pointing to the butt of the leggings.

Where the word ‘NYMPHO’ shone in big silver letters.

“It was a gift from Tom. In hindsight, I don’t know why I even kept it.” Leslie quickly tosses the fabric to the other side of her bed, hoping to remember to burn it or at least rip it to shreds before throwing it down the garbage chute. (Why she ever, _ever_ asked Tom for advice on how to dress was beyond her.)

“Why can’t you just wear what you picked last night? I mean, the dress was nice, it showed off your boobs, what was wrong with it?”

“What if he decides to take me somewhere fancy? What if I’m underdressed?”

“I honestly doubt you’re underdressed, Les. He’s a struggling college student and the closest ‘fancy’ restaurant we have is all the way on the other side of town. Leslie, I promise, you are not going to have a bad first date.” Ann tries to reassure her best friend, who has already started pacing back and forth at the foot of her bed. Okay, so she was bad at first dates. It’s not like she was abhorrently terrible at them.

Well, then again, the last first date she had accidentally consumed an entire bottle of vinegar on the notion that it was really bad tasting wine. (She had to go to the hospital for an ulcer attack the next day and the worst part was the guy never asked for a second date or even call her to check if she was okay.)

And ridden in a sidecar that detached from the guy’s motorcycle and went down a flight of stairs.

And instead of Tic-Tacs had popped in a couple of Ambien and had to keep punching her leg to stay awake.

And went out with a guy who wore 3D glasses the entire night. (And his lame pick up line of wanting to see her every asset pop wasn’t exactly comforting either.)

Oh God.

“Leslie, now I know you’re panicking.” Ann says calmly, noticing the short bursts of breaths that usually started when Leslie was anxious.

“I mean, what if I do something stupid and he hates me?”

“Pretty sure that ship’s already sailed.” Ann murmurs as Leslie shoots her a glare, still clearly not amused with her jokes about avoiding Ben. Ann sighs and walks over to her pacing best friend, gripping lightly at her arms.

“But it’s going to be fine. I mean, Ben obviously really likes you and he’s really sweet, so I’m sure he’s going to try to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” Ann reaches for a dress she has sitting on Leslie’s bed and pushes the fabric into her hands.

“Now, go get dressed. I promise you, everything’s going to be fine.” Leslie mutters something she can’t make out under her breath, but nods and makes her way to the bathroom.

Ann tells her that her dress is the perfect combination of sophisticated with a hint of slutty and Leslie loves it. By the time there’s a knock on their door and Leslie’s nerves spark into life again, her make-up is done and her hair is perfectly curled and she feels like at least she looks ready, even though there’s no way in hell that she feels like it.

“Leslie, look at me.” Ann says, tipping Leslie’s head up. “You’re going to be fine. Now, go answer the door.”

Their door swings open to reveal a nervous looking Ben, mutli-colored flowers tightly encased in his fingers.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Ben says breathlessly, a smile lingering on his lips as his eyes slowly rake over her dress. Leslie feels warmth starting to grow from underneath her muscles from his gaze and the urge to just pull him into the dorm and toss the flowers aside starting to be a little too tempting right now.

“Wow. You look amazing.” He says, voice a little croaked and eyes shining brightly. Leslie runs a hand over her dress, flattening the imaginary wrinkles and blushing.

“Thank you. You don’t look half bad.” Ben smiles, glancing down at his outfit nervously. He was wearing a fancier polo, rolled up to the sleeves and paired with slim fit jeans that frame his butt perfectly. (She hasn’t seen his butt yet, but she’s sure that if she did it would be perfect anyways.)

“Here. I got these for you.” He offers her the flowers and Ann suddenly sweeps in out of nowhere and grabs them from his hands.

“Hey Ben! Nice shirt. Anyways, I’ll go put this in water and you too go have fun on your date. Ben, I want her home by 11, no excuses.” Ann warns, wagging her finger and the resemblance to her mother is too uncanny. Ben chuckles before nodding good-heartedly and offering his arm.

“Mi’ lady.” She giggles at his added southern accent and he offers his arm like the gentleman that he is. Ann gives her two thumbs up of encouragement as she slips her arm right underneath his and takes a deep breath.

God, she just hope she doesn’t fuck this up.

\---

Trivia night.

Ben had taken her out to _trivia night._

“Well, a little birdie told me that you get a little nervous on first dates so instead of just us sitting and talking and doing all the nervous, awkward, first date stuff, what about we just kick ass?”

If she could just kiss him right here, she would, but she’s too flabbergasted by the gesture that aside from a few ideas for their team name (they ultimately went with Leslimin) that she had very little to say.

Of course, they had dominated the competition.

But not without a couple of disagreements.

“Who was the first Vice President of Richard Nixon’s administration?” The game master asks, who was a scrawny, glasses wearing guy in a Mario Kart shirt and looked like he lived still in his Mom’s basement. (Not that Leslie was judging of course, but she was pretty sure his Mom still made him lunch.)

“I’m pretty sure it was Gerald Ford.” Ben whispers to Leslie, who shook her head violently.

“No, it was Spiro Agnew.”

“No way, I’m pretty sure it was Gerald Ford.” Ben argues.

“It’s Spiro Agnew! He was vice president from 1969 to 1973. After he resigned, it was Gerald Ford who took over.”

“Oh. Right.” Ben blushes and scribbles down their answer, but not before Leslie squeezes his shoulder reassuringly.

“It’s okay, I still like you even if you do have inaccuracies in vice presidential terms.” She teases as Ben reaches down to poke her side, mumbling about it not being amusing. She giggles before pushing her nose into his shoulder and they work on the rest of the questions together.

“... Instrument used to measure earthquakes?”

“Seismometer, obviously.” Ben nods, grinning and high fiving her as she cackled.

“What is the world’s smallest country?”

“Uh... Haiti?” Leslie asks.

“I think Haiti’s pretty big. During the earthquake, the death toll was estimated at maybe a hundred to a hundred and ten thousand.”

“Oh shit.”

“I think I know what it is.” Ben scribbles down an answer as Leslie peers from underneath his arm.

“The Vatican City? Isn’t it a city in Italy?”

“That’s actually where it gets interesting. The Vatican City was declared a state in 1929 when the Cardinal Secretary signed on behalf of Pope Pius XI and Benito Mussolini signed on the behalf of the king at that time.”

Ben was so cute when he was explaining history to her. His eyes would brighten and his hands move in time with his explanation, obviously glad to be spreading the impertinent information that was stocked away in his mind.

“Well... thank you. You’re pretty cute too.” She can feel her face heat up in embarrassment.

Oh shit. Did she say that out loud?

Ben just chuckles at the horrified expression on Leslie’s face before the game master draws their attention away, coming to collect the pieces of paper that they had written all of their answers on.

“Do you think we’re going to win?” Leslie whispers, her competitive side rearing it’s head.

“Of course we will. We’re a kick-ass team.” Ben says, his smile making her feel all dizzy and wonderful. He looked at her like no one could prove to him that they were nothing less than a kickass team.

They had won, rewarded with a couple of gift checks and a free round of shots. Ben’s smile was so wide and his laugh as intoxicating as the tequila that was still burning in her throat as he held up her hand in his when they were declared winners.

“See, I told you we were a kickass team. We’re probably the best team ever.” He said to her later on, the alcohol slightly slurring his words as they sat in a diner, fresh waffles with tons of whipped cream sitting prettily on their striped plates. His hands were covering hers on the table, fingers flexing ever so slightly when she made even the smallest movement; like he’d immediately hold on if she ever made a move to get away.

Their waffles end up half-eaten on the table because they can’t stop talking.

He tells her about his family. He talks about his art teacher of a Mom who he loves and his former military Dad who he’s terrified of. He talks about his sister Steph and how she’s doing well in her freshman year of high school and how his brother Henry is doing with his first real job.

She tells him about her dream journal as a kid and her home filmed campaign videos and he doesn’t laugh. She tells him about why she loves Pawnee and her boss Ron and his liberalist views that they argue about all the time. She tells him about his Mom, who’s dating some guy named Steve who works as library director and she launches into a long rant about why she hates libraries. He humors her and just nods and agrees to all the evil things about libraries.

She tells him about her Dad.

How he died when she was ten and how she loved to bake because he taught her to.

“I’m sorry.” He says, his hand firmly tightening around hers and she doesn’t know why she still tears up, throat closing in around a large lump. Maybe it was the booze. It was definitely the booze.

“It’s okay.” It’s only dignified response she has because all her life people have been telling her that they were sorry her Dad had died. Instead of just staying silent, like most people do when she says it’s okay, he stops her and brushes her hair out of her face and asks her if she wanted to go back to her dorm. She nods and he brushes a tear off her cheek before asking for the bill.

Ben walks her back to her dorm; their fingers twined and swinging between them. The cold wind bit at her, so Ben carefully draped his jacket around her shoulders and she smiled when the warmth of the cloth and the smell of him was all she could feel. It was already mildly shifting into spring. The snow mixed with dirt and created that ugly, murky color she always hated, but right now she can’t seem to care. The half-melted snow was beautiful and sparkling because she couldn’t see any of it. They walk mostly in silence, the heaviness of their conversation still heavy on both their minds.

When they get to the foot of the stairs of her dorm, he finally breaks the weighed silence.

“You know, I played ‘Whoomp, There It Is’ during my inaugural speech.” She laughs, snorting a little at the thought of Ben ending his inaugural speech with the popular rap song.

“You did what?”

“Hey, it was a popular song and I liked it.”

“You’re such a dork.” He shrugs, admitting defeat, but the smile of satisfaction that spreads on his face makes her feel like he just exposed an embarassing fact about himself to make her _smile._

After that, she kisses him.

She grabs at the collar of his now-wrinkled polo shirt and just pulls him in. Leslie cups the back of his neck and laces her fingers in his hair and just kisses him. His lips move frantically under her, trying to capture and sieze every inch of her flesh that it could. His lips part unceremoniously under hers, as if this was a movement they’ve already perfected, molded and shaped to be together. She tastes him; like spearmint and a slight sting of tequila. A moan grumbles in the back of his throat when her hands drift down to squeeze the top of his butt and her own moan is swallowed by his lips.

She’s not the type of girl to ask if he wanted to come up to her room on the first date, but God, she’s willing to throw away the rules just this once for him.

They pull apart, breathless and panting and she mumbles the words against his lips.

“Do you... wanna come up?”

His eyes widen, but the darkness of his pupils are hard to miss. She hopes she looks sultry enough and not desperate, like she feels. She knows her own eyes must be dark as well, lips swollen and cheeks and chest dusted with red.

If he doesn’t reply in the next two seconds she swears that she’s just going to push him up herself.

It feels like forever, but he barely mutters a yes before she’s tugging on his hand and leading him upstairs.

\---

“A-Are you--“ He breathes out, moaning appreciatively at the hand palming him through his boxers.

“Ben, I told you, I’m okay with this.” She says, kissing the long, smooth column of his throat. He’s asked her maybe five times in the past ten minutes if she was okay with this. The fact that she was already in her underwear and straddling him on her bed should have been enough indication.

He nods rapidly as his palm cups her butt and presses her closer to the growing stiffness underneath her. His hand reaches for the clasp on her back, clicking it open and tugging her bra down her arms, trailing kisses on her shoulder as he does.

She’s so glad she decided to wear that black lacey one for tonight.

It gets tosses somewhere behind her but she doesn’t care, not when Ben’s warm, wet mouth clasps around one of her nipples. His fingers circle her naval before reaching under her underwear and pressing against her. She moans.

“ _Oh God.”_

“Not my name, but I’ll take it.” He teases, rubbing his fingers against her outer lips before slipping one inside. Her hips buck against his hand, his palm pressed against her clit and she’s not sure how long she’s going to last when he adds another finger.

“Condom.” He breathes into her ear, his voice heady and cracked. She nods, pointing to her nightstand and he uses his unoccupied hand to fish one out all while his other one was still working her.

If Ben Wyatt was good at anything, of course it would be multi-tasking.

It’s both a relief and irriating to finally have him slip inside her because he feels so good, he’s just going so _slow_. 

“ _Beeeen._ ” She whines. “Just fuck me already.”

She sees his eyes widen and she’s surprised at herself because she’s usually never a dirty talker when she’s having sex. He pauses for a moment and she’s scared that she’s said something wrong but instead, he kisses her so hard she’s sure her lips will bruise and presses himself so deep her back arches and toes curl in pleasure.

“Yes ma’am.”

He alternatives between thrusting hard and rocking slow against her, both driving her insane, as if he knew just the right mixture of the two movements were enough for her to be grasping at his back and sure that she was leaving all sorts of marks on him. His hips were slotted perfectly against hers, her legs draped on his hips and his hands guiding her in tune with his movements and it was all too, too good. She builds and builds and builds until his hand snakes between them, a soft command whispered in her ear accompanied by a sharp press to her clit and she's gone, shattering in his arms with his name etched on her lips. 

He comes right after, grunting and groaning as he rides it out, before collapsing on top of her breathlessly. 

He eventually excuses himself to go to the bathroom and she's too tired to tell him to stay. Her bones are practically jelly and she figures that an orgasm of that caliber would probably do that to you. She hears the toilet flush and two warm arms wrap around her waist, his nose is nuzzled behind her ear and she giggles when his breath tickles her.

“Hi.” He breathes out, sleepy smile crossed out on his lips.

“Hi. That was--“

“Amazing?” He supplies.

“I was going to say absolutely mind-blowing, but amazing works too.”

“Well, all that work with calculators really helped my fingers.” She cackles, swatting at him and he just laughs into her skin.

“Cocky.”

“Can’t help if it’s true.”

She chuckles and sighs happily, rubbing at his arm as their fingers twine and he kisses the back of her head. 

"I'm glad you agreed to go out with me tonight." She says, but Ben shakes his head and buries his nose into her neck. 

"I'm just glad you asked me." 

Her phone rings somewhere in her room and she moves to get it, figuring it was Ann with some important advice and she should probably get it, but instead Ben tightens his grip on her hand and sighs into her hair that she should just stay. She relents, snuggling closer to his warmth and listening to the way his breaths deepened and slowed. Soon, she joined him, her own eyes drooping shut in exhaustion and she let the happiness fill her. 

She was glad that he agreed to go out with her tonight

She was very glad that he was here in her bed, naked and sleeping and pressed up against her. 

And she was very, very glad that she met Ben. 

\---


End file.
